My eyes could’ve popped out of their sockets. “You mean Mrs. Garrison? So she’s like, what, your pimp?”
He huffed out a scoff. “Pimp? Yeah, I guess, in a manner of speaking. She…hey, how do you know her name?”
I shrugged. “She told me. I ran across her smoking outside when I left your house one night after babysitting.”
“Damn it.” And he was back on his feet with the pacing again. Seriously, the boy was going to run me dizzy. “I told her to leave you alone.”
“You did?” Well, that was alarming. “When did you do that? And why were you discussing me with your landlady?”
“Because she’s seen you coming and going and you’re…” He threw out a hand to motion toward me as if I should be able to finish that sentence.
I couldn’t. Straightening, I pressed my palm to my chest, already offended. “I’m what?”
“You’re…beautiful,” he muttered, turning away. “So, naturally, she thinks you and I…”
“Yeah.” I nodded and rolled my hand. “I got that part.”
Mason scrubbed his face, moaning. “God, I really hate this sometimes. Sometimes, I just want to quit it all.”
My heart skipped a beat. Hope sprung eternal. “Then quit. Quit it right now.”
He clenched his teeth and sent me a scowl. “I can’t!”
I shook my head. “Why not?”
“I just...” He winced. “I’m not going to do this forever. I do have a plan. As soon as I graduate, I’m getting a kick-ass job. Then I’m setting Mom and Sarah up in a house, one they own, not another rental. And I’m going to find my own place. I’m going to be free.”
I nodded as I listened. It was sad to hear how trapped he felt in his current life and how responsible he felt for his mom and sister. “Why can’t Dawn buy her own house now? And why can’t you move out now, if that’s what you want?”
He sent me a scandalized blink. “Are you crazy? Mom cannot be trusted with finances. Before I stepped in, she forgot to pay…pretty much everything. She’s a great mother, don’t get me wrong. I would give my life for her, but the woman can’t budget worth shit. Sometimes, she would forget to pay the electric bill, and the lights would just go out while we were eating dinner or I was taking a shower. Sometimes—”
“So, wait.” I waved my hands to stop him. “I’m sorry, but I guess I just don’t understand how you finishing college is going to teach your mother to learn to finance and take care of herself without you.”
He stared at me as if he couldn’t comprehend my concern.
“Even if you build up a big enough nest egg for her and Sarah to be set for life, she could still forget to pay for utilities after you leave.”
Mason’s glower was irritated. “Are you saying I’m never going to be able to move out on my own?”
“No, I’m saying you need to come at this from a different angle. It sounds like Dawn needs to learn a little organization.” And to quit stacking so much responsibility on her son’s shoulders.
“She’s starting to come around,” he argued. “I’ve worked with her for the past two years. And every couple of months, she’ll pay the bills without my help.”
“Well, then there you go. Maybe she could do it all on her own now. Ergo, you can stop doing something so drastic to save your family. They’ll be okay. You don’t have to keep breaking the law or your own moral code and continue doing something you obviously hate just to make more money.”
“I have a plan,” he repeated, his jaw going obstinately hard, telling me nothing was going to make him deviate.
I rolled my eyes and muttered, “Yeah. A stupid plan.” My voice might’ve been a tad petulant, but I didn’t care. His stupid plan was keeping me from jumping his bones this very second. It was keeping me from being with the one person who saw me and liked what he saw.
As if he understood his pigheadedness was leaving me shafted, he sat beside me. “I’m sorry, Reese. I didn’t mean to dump all my problems on you. I…” He swallowed. The look he sent me said volumes in the apology department, but the words he said sounded more like, “Do you have anything to drink?”
I blurted out a hard laugh. Yeah, a stiff drink sounded perfect right about now.
“Sure. Hold on.” I pushed to my feet and left him on the sofa. I needed a little space from him anyway before I slapped him silly.
In the kitchenette, I opened the top cupboard and stretched up onto my toes to reach the only bottle of alcohol I had in the place. After filling a crystal cup with ice, I poured a healthy shot and carried both the glass and bottle to the couch.
“Here.”
Relief crossed his face. “Thanks.” He downed the drink whole, only to sit upright, nearly spitting it out as he coughed and sputtered. “God.” He grimaced and scraped the surface of his tongue against the bottom of his top teeth, wiping off the remaining flavor. “What was that? Tequila?”
Shocked he didn’t know his liquors, I gaped. “No. It was gin.” How could anyone not recognize the taste or smell of gin?
“Blech. Tasted like Pine-Sol.”